


Trust Me

by killuazcldyck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killuazcldyck/pseuds/killuazcldyck
Summary: Viktor Krum finds himself trapped inside Viktor Nikiforov's body. This, of course, doesn't bode well for him at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [isshikisenpai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isshikisenpai/pseuds/isshikisenpai) in the [selfcestfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/selfcestfest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> inspired by the beautiful art linked below
> 
> AU in which durmstrang viktor krum is viktor nikiforov in another universe (everything about viktor krum's character is the same except it’s another viktor nikiforov in name and appearance if that makes sense) 
> 
> Character introspection maybe? Something about their skill sets, both being the best at what they do?  
> But lacking in the romance department and taking solace in each other?  
> Maybe nikiforov has something to teach durmstrang viktor? or maybe it's the other way around? whatever works, anything is fine
> 
> Bonus points for time turner fun and/or magic! Alternatively just. anything really 
> 
> Smut is fine too, any rating is okay
> 
> URL: http://twitter.com/naikafei/status/794644258871332864

Viktor stares at himself in the mirror, heart palpitating. Nikiforov gazes back, a small smile playing on his lips as he eyes Viktor up and down. Although Viktor knows that it isn’t his own body Nikiforov is eyeing – it is, in fact, Nikiforov’s – he can’t help but feel a little turned on that he is looking at him as though he could devour him at any moment.

 _You’re beautiful_ , Viktor thinks when Nikiforov runs his elegant hands through his silver hair.

“Thank you,” Nikiforov smirks. He heaves a gentle sigh, his chest rising ever so slightly. Viktor ignores the flutters in his own chest when he sees Nikiforov catch his eye.

“Are you ready?”

Viktor thinks about what lies ahead of him; he thinks of the absurd and sparkly costume he has to wear, of the number of people he’s going to have to pretend to like, and, of course, of the tricks and turns he’s somehow going to have to execute on the ice in front of a starry-eyed crowd. He is, by no means, at all ready.

“You’ll be fine,” Nikiforov reassures him, his voice soft and consoling. Viktor scoffs, a highly ungentlemanly-like response. “Don’t forget,” Nikiforov starts, but Viktor nods gruffly, shoving a small golden compact mirror in his bag.

 _I know_ , he tells Nikiforov. Heart heavy with the idea of having to pull off an international gold medallist’s ice skating routine, Viktor saunters off towards the rink for the Rostelecom Cup.

 

* * *

 

 _Well, that couldn’t have gone worse_ , Viktor thinks bitterly to himself after the first round. It was a complete and utter disaster; he was on the ground for longer than he was standing, he’s pretty sure.

“Viktor! What the hell was that?” a young blonde boy sneers at him as soon as his pathetic routine finishes. “There’s choking, and then there’s … _that_ ,” Yuri Plisetsky spits in disgust. “What the fuck happened?”

Viktor rolls his eyes, determined to get out of the corridor where endless numbers of cameras flash off in an obnoxious manner.

 _Don’t you get any damn privacy, Nikiforov?_ Viktor wonders, annoyed. He’s one to talk, he knows; cameras follow him – Viktor Krum – absolutely everywhere. He knows that if Nikiforov ever made such a blunder on the Quidditch field in _his_ body – not that they had encountered that misfortune just yet – he’d make the headlines, he thinks with a sort of revulsion. Although, now that he thinks about it, Nikiforov seems like the sort of guy that could pull anything off, even if it means wobbling dangerously on a broomstick in the middle of a Quidditch match.

“Oi! I’m talking to you, Viktor!” Yuri grabs Viktor by the shoulders and, with surprising strength, forces him to turn around to face an angry looking cat.

“Please leave me alone right now, Yuri,” Viktor keeps his words short and simple, so as not to arouse suspicion.

Unable and unwilling to continue talking to the petulant child, Viktor leaves and seeks solitude in the bathroom. He rummages through his backpack and finds what he’s looking for with a sigh of relief.

“ _Viktor_ ,” Viktor hisses into the mirror. Nikiforov’s reflection stares back at him with the same, frustrated expression he has on, before softening.

“Hello, darling,” Nikiforov greets Viktor with a smile he feels like he doesn’t deserve.

“That vos awful,” Viktor mumbles in defeat.

“Could have gone worse,” Nikiforov, ever the voice of comfort and reassurance, merely grins at him.

 _Is there anything you can do to fix this?_ Viktor knows it’s unfair to throw this onto Nikiforov – he’s just as clueless as he is – but seeing as Nikiforov has access to all of Viktor’s magical items … Suddenly, inspiration dawns on Viktor, which must show on his face because Nikiforov raises an eyebrow in interest.

“It seems like you have an idea …”

“I … I think this might vork. Do you know vhere my bookcase is?”

Nikiforov lifts up his own compact two-way mirror and scans Viktor’s living quarters, until his eyes light up.

“Yes! Is there something in there that might help us?”

Viktor hesitates. It’s dangerous, he knows that, and he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. But he knows that there’s probably no other way to fix this disastrous mess, and he doesn’t want Nikiforov to suffer with the backlash from today’s nightmarish skating, either.

“There is a small book on the top left corner. It has no title,” Viktor instructs Nikiforov.

“With gold lining?”

“Yes.”

Nikiforov pulls the book off the shelf and places it carefully on Viktor’s bed.

“Open it. Inside is a gold necklace called a Time-Turner. You have to vear it, and turn the handle back three times. Come back here to find me. Ve can svap bodies here. But you must not … freak out, vhen you see me.”

Nikiforov laughs, his voice echoing gently around the bathroom stall. “I think we’re past the point of freaking out, don’t you think?”

Viktor can’t help but give Nikiforov a begrudging smile back at that. Nikiforov always had a tendency to somehow know what to say to make Viktor feel better.

“Fine. Be safe. Make sure that –,”

“– I’m not seen, I know,” Nikiforov winks.

 _God, you’re a little shit_ , Viktor thinks, knowing that Nikiforov can perfectly well hear his thoughts.

“But you love me,” argues Nikiforov playfully.

Viktor remains silent and stony-faced, hoping that his thoughts remain silent as well.

“Fine, fine,” Nikiforov places the Time-Turner around his neck. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

 _Please be safe. It’s dangerous_ , Viktor doesn’t voice his fears, but again, he doesn’t have to.

“I’ll be safe,” Nikiforov’s eyes soften, crinkling at the sides, and Viktor feels himself weaken yet again under the alluring gaze of the handsome Russian skater. “It’s going to be okay. Do you trust me?” Nikiforov places his hands on the Time-Turner, looking so earnestly up at Viktor that he has no damn choice except to trust him.

Whether this works or not, whether Nikiforov is seen or not, they’ll cross that bridge when they come to it, Viktor thinks. Right now, as he watches Nikiforov twist the Time-Turner, an unexplainable warmth spreads through Viktor’s body as he waits for Nikiforov to arrive.

 _I trust you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Weeps, this was not the easiest thing to write, and I had written something up until two hours before the deadline, before I decided to change my entire story and go with this. I apologise for everything, but I had fun while writing it! I'd like to come back to this fic and take my time with it another time, but for now, this will have to do! I hope you enjoyed this~ D:


End file.
